


I'll Get By (As Long As I Have You)

by robodork



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Artist Steve Rogers, Bisexuality, Body Dysphoria, Bucky Barnes Is Very Done With Steve Fighting People, But Steve Is Small And Ready To Brawl™, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, I Really Did Not Plan This Fic I'm Sorry In Advance, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Transphobia, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Trans Character, Trans Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-04-27 11:56:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14424906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robodork/pseuds/robodork
Summary: Steve and Bucky are struggling to get by. They can barely afford their rent, they're shocked that nobody's caught on that they're in a relationship and that Steve is transgender. Despite struggles with money, insecurities, among other things, they're happy as long as they have each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> just a heads up for the first chapter: there's light transphobia, but it's not too intense
> 
> also Steve will not stop fighting people

As many a legendary friendship started out, Bucky and Steve immediately hit it off. Both remembered the moment they met as if it was yesterday. In fact, incidents similar to the one that brought them together happened on the regular. The day they had met, Bucky had been walking back from school when he’d heard a scuffle in a nearby alley. He was no stranger to fights; in fact, he spent much of his time breaking them up. He followed the distinctive sounds until he rounded a corner just in time to see a familiar-looking youth with an almost disturbingly small frame get punched square in the eye and collapse against the side of the building. The two tormentors, who were much larger than their victim, laughed savagely and began to advance.

“Hey!” Bucky called. “Why don’t you pick on somebody your own size?”

The bullies, two boys who had at least a foot on Bucky, wheeled around at the sound of another voice. Bucky felt a flash of panic but held his ground.

“What did you say, punk?” One of them asked.

Bucky’s fear was quickly replaced by sardonic amusement. They were walking clichés.

“I said you should pick on somebody your own size,” He said calmly. “Do I need to spell it out for you?”

“Get him, Karl!” The other boy yelled.

Karl lunged at Bucky, but Bucky was faster. He moved swiftly out of the way, sticking out a leg for Karl to trip on. He hit the ground hard and didn’t get back up.

“Why you little–!” The other boy snarled, taking the place of Karl in the fray.

Bucky landed a punch directly in the middle of his gut, feeling the air leaving the boy’s lungs. “I think you’d best leave.” Bucky told the gasping bully.

“Hope you know you’re defending a queer.” Karl choked out, helping his companion to his feet.

He watched, satisfied, as the duo hobbled away, though confused by Karl’s comment. Bucky flexed his fingers, feeling the formation of a bruise beginning, before rushing to the aid of the victim. “You okay?” He asked.

The target of the two bullies looked up at him, blue eyes wide and shining with fear and surprise. “I think so.”

“What’s your name?” Bucky asked, hand automatically going to the kid’s shoulder in concern.

“Steve.” She – no, he, clearly he – said breathlessly.

Bucky studied Steve. He was inhumanly small and thin, and there was something awkward about his features, like he hadn’t grown into them yet. His hair was close cropped and dirty blonde, and his face was bruised and dirty.

“Hey, Steve. I’m Bucky.” He said, attempting to smile comfortingly.

Steve returned the smile timidly. “Thanks for saving me.” He said. His voice had a high-pitched quality to it, Bucky was noticing, but he felt he didn’t have the right to judge.

“Sorry, but what got you into this?” Bucky asked.

Steve broke eye contact with Bucky. “It’s probably my fault. I think I provoked them.” He said quietly.

“I don’t think you’re dumb enough to have just picked a fight with them. It can’t be your fault.” Bucky replied, attempting to comfort Steve.

Steve glanced up at him. “Can you keep a secret?” He asked.

Bucky hesitated, noting how disconcertingly straightforward the other boy was being. He nodded. “Okay.”

“But you can’t tell anyone. Promise.” Steve said in a more forceful tone than Bucky expected.

“I promise.” Bucky said, almost startled.

“Cross your heart. Pinky promise. Anything. You gotta be 100% genuine.” Steve said. His eyes were alight with an emotion that Bucky couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Bucky mock-saluted as if Steve were giving him orders and crossed his heart. He felt a bittersweet twinge at Steve’s small smile when he saluted. The small boy took a deep, rattling breath before he confided in Bucky what he thought was going to be a lifelong secret. “I was born a girl,” He said, quickly, obviously wanting to get through admitting that, “But look at me. I’m a fella. I’ve known my whole life, but my Ma still hasn’t found out, even with the short hair. I’m surprised she even let me do it in the first place.”

He laughed nervously, running his fingers through the hair on the back of my head.

“Between you and me, I wouldn’t’ve ever pegged you as a dame.” Bucky said.

“Really?” Steve asked, sounding honored yet disbelieving.

“Really! I’ve never met a dame who’s gotten into a scuffle and’s all covered in dirt and bruises. I mean, I’m sure they’re out there but I certainly haven’t met one,” Bucky reassured him. “Now, what are the names of those two guys who were harassing you?”

Steve thought for a minute. “Karl Leach and Ellis McGrath. Are you planning to report ‘em? We go to the same school.”

“All four of us?” Bucky asked in surprise.

“Yeah, I recognize you. I don’t blame you for not remembering me, though, it’s a big class, and I don’t really talk to people that often.” He said.

Bucky nodded. “Thinking about it, your face does look familiar.” He said.

He extended a hand and helped Steve to his feet. Bucky felt his heart twist. Steve was a head shorter than he was, and was clearly just skin and bone. “Don’t they feed you at home?” Bucky asked fretfully.

Steve avoided eye contact. “Barely. We’ve got barely any money, my mom and I.” He said.

“What about your Pa?” Bucky asked.

“Dead. He was a soldier in the world war, got gassed in the trenches and didn’t make it.” Steve sounded oddly well rehearsed, like he’d told people time and time again.

“I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. I didn’t know him.”

There was a heavy silence. Then, “Thanks for sticking up for me back there. You didn’t have to do that.”

“No problem. But ‘didn’t have to do that’? You’re barely 5’5, probably don’t weigh 130 sopping wet, and yet you could’ve fought those guys off? Unless you have some sort of superpower, I’m not sure that’d be possible.” Bucky said.

“Okay, yeah. Fair. Eventually an officer would hear, though, that’s what usually happens. Or I defend myself.” Steve said.

“But have you ever actually won a fight?” Bucky asked.

Steve looked as though he’d sucked a lemon. “No.” He admitted, crossing his arms defensively over his chest.

-

Now, it was no different. They were both adults and somehow Steve kept getting himself into messes.

“One of these days, now, Steve, you’re gonna get yourself killed.” Bucky said, sounding almost like a scolding parent.

Steve straightened his shirt and suspenders. “Haven’t yet. That means something, doesn’t it?”

Bucky sighed, removing his jacket and draping it around Steve’s shoulders. “You’re very persistent, and although it’s admirable, you really gotta do something responsible for once.” He said.

“What am I gonna do? Draw somebody a portrait? I’m making barely enough to pay our rent, Buck.” Steve said.

“Fighting doesn’t pay the rent either.” Bucky pointed out.

“Of course it doesn’t, but it’s more entertaining than having somebody comment on how quaint my artwork is.” Steve replied.

“I mean, I guess. But artwork doesn’t give you concussions.”

“Maybe it could. Somebody could drop a sculpture on me or something.”

“Steve, I cannot stress how much I hate that you, in this moment, are correct. We gotta get you cleaned up. And for God’s sakes, take your binder off. This is doing absolutely nothing good for your asthma.” Bucky complained, steering his friend in the direction of their apartment.

It was a day like any other.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve's irresponsible binding leads to him having a conversation with Bucky that will forever change the nature of their relationship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys, remember to bind safely! I've bound for too long before and trust me bruised ribs are amazingly sucky.

Steve felt as though he had sucked an unripe lemon. All he could taste was a penetrating sourness that made his gums and tongue feel as though they had a slimy, pulpy consistency. He was close to fainting. His vision swam around the edges and everything around him felt distant. Then, through the blur – “Steve? Stevie?”

It was Bucky. Steve tried to speak but he had no breath left. He succumbed to the void that had been threatening to consume him.

He came to on his own couch. Bucky’s handsome, anxious face hovered over him, the relief obvious in his pale eyes. Steve tried to sit up, but a firm hand pushed him back down into the cushions. “Fainting while getting a glass of water? That’s a first. You gotta rest.” Bucky said.

“What’d I do?” Steve asked in a hoarse whisper.

“You bound either too tight or too long. I’m not certain. Whatever you did, don’t do that again. You scared me.” Bucky said.

Steve felt a twinge of guilt. “M’sorry.” He slurred.

“It’s okay. Just be more careful. You have asthma already, we don’t want crushed ribs or collapsed lungs added onto that.” Bucky said. He then produced a glass of water that had been sitting somewhere beyond Steve’s line of sight. “You never did get your drink.”

Steve gave a weak laugh. “How long was I out?” 

“A day.” Bucky replied.

Steve sat up so quickly that Bucky recoiled, and a hot bolt of pain lanced across his chest. “What?!” He exclaimed, voice squeaking.

Bucky held his hands up as if in surrender. “Hey, hey, cool it, bud. You’re fine. You didn’t actually sleep for that long. It was more like several periods of passing out with delirious conversation in between.”

Steve fell back against the pillows. “I say anything funny?”

“I wouldn’t say funny,” his friend replied, “But it was good conversation. I’m glad we talked.”

“Then what did I say?” Steve asked curiously, edging up so he wasn’t completely prone.

Bucky hesitated. “It was pretty personal stuff, Stevie, I’m not sure you would be comfortable with what you shared. I just want you to know that I’m perfectly fine with it.”

Steve fixed Bucky with a stern look. “Tell me what I said.”

-

_ “Are you feeling okay? You’re looking paler than usual.” Bucky asked, glancing over at Steve, who was sitting on the couch, hunched over a new sketch. _

_ “Yeah, just a bit weird. I’ve got a bit of a stomach ache, but it’s fine. I think I’m dehydrated.” Steve said. _

_ He set the notebook aside and stood, looking wobbly. His spindly legs looked like they were supporting his small frame with even more difficulty than normal. _

_ “You totally sure you’re feeling fine?” Bucky asked. _

_ Steve nodded vehemently. “Yes, absolutely.” _

_ He turned and continued on his way to the kitchen. Bucky leapt to his feet as quickly as Steve collapsed, retching, to the floor. “Steve! Stevie!” He yelled. _

_ He ran to his companion’s side, making sure that his head didn’t hit the floor as he passed out completely. “Aw, Jesus, what now?” He asked, though he knew Steve couldn’t hear him. _

_ Bucky checked Steve’s pulse, though he could hear his obviously labored breathing. His heart fluttered against Bucky’s fingers as he put them against his throat. Bucky went through a mental list of anything that could have caused this. The obvious first cause would be asthma, but he knew that attacks were easy to detect in their early stages, and even Steve knew to use his inhaler right away. Bucky always kept a note of Steve’s many ailments, but usually there were signs beforehand. If there had been, Steve would have at least let on. And then it hit him. About a week prior, they had miraculously found an underground bar that was constantly flocked by the queer folk populating New York, and Steve had acquired what Bucky had learned was called a binder, a device that made his chest flat. It looked like a short, stiff tank top, and they had been warned by the man who sold it to them that if one were to wear it too long, it could have detrimental effects. Bucky lifted Steve’s limp form and propped him up against the back of the couch, then proceeded to pull his shirt off. The shirt itself was easy – it was a few sizes too big for him. And then there was the binder. It was sweaty and sticky, and even stiffer than it looked. Bucky felt awkward having to undress Steve, but he had to. He positioned his arms above his head and began to slowly ease the binder up and off. Steve’s skin felt odd and clammy, most likely due to the lack of oxygen circulating. Bucky strained to get the binder to move beyond Steve’s shoulders, trying not to look at his exposed chest. An angry-looking red ring circled around Steve’s prominent ribs, and he looked bruised. Bucky detected a wheeze and tried to be quick getting the binder over Steve’s head as not to suffocate him with the article. Finally, after what seemed like twenty minutes of laborious pulling, the binder was off. Bucky put the shirt back on Steve, and then laid him down on the cushions, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. Bucky tossed the binder aside and perched himself on the arm of the couch so he could keep the unconscious Steve in check. He sat there in silence for a few minutes, admiring Steve’s peaceful looks. And then Steve spoke, his eyes darting feverishly, half-open. “Bucky,” He croaked. “Hi.” _

_ Bucky smiled fondly. “Hey there, Steve.” _

_ He could tell that Steve was still unconscious, despite his being able to speak. Bucky heard Steve sleep-talk before. It was usually dream nonsense, but it was a little eerie how aware he seemed to be despite his slurring. _

_ “Buck… I love you, Buck.” Steve rasped, his words bleeding together like watercolors. _

_ Bucky froze. “What?” _

_ “I love you. I love men.” Steve reiterated. _

_ “I can’t say that’s surprising, Stevie, but what about all those dames you had crushes on back in school?” Bucky asked gently. _

_ “I love them too. I love ‘em all.” Steve said. He sounded as though he was on heavy medication. _

_ “You’re attracted to me?” Bucky asked, flattered. _

_ Steve had made comments on his looks before but he hadn’t thought anything of it. Bucky felt color flood to his cheeks as Steve confirmed. _

_ “I… wow, Steve. I gotta say, you’re not half-bad looking either.” Bucky said. He brushed a golden lock out of his companion’s face. _

_ Steve smiled. His eyelids fluttered and Bucky could tell he was going back under. “Glad to get that off my chest.” He said in a loopy tone, gesturing to the general area of his actual chest and giggling stupidly. _

_ And then he passed out again. _

-

Steve stared at Bucky, blushing profusely. What he did next, Bucky was not expecting. Steve wrapped an arm behind Bucky’s head, pulling him in for a kiss. Steve’s first kiss. It was warm and tender, and although Steve’s mouth tasted stale, neither of them minded. Something warm bloomed inside of Steve as he inhaled Bucky’s sweet cologne, and momentarily the pain of his ribs melted away.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky share another heart to heart and Bucky realizes Steve can really handle himself (most of the time)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS I'm so sorry this took so long to update!!! A lot of life shit happened unfortunately but here I am, updating the fic as a Christmas present (especially for you Leilani!!! <3)! 
> 
> tw for those who aren't good with vomit ahead, it's not too detailed but it's certainly there

Steve took a sip of his drink. “Hey, Bucky, can I talk to you about something?”

Bucky turned in his stool to look at Steve. “I thought we already were talking about something.” He said.

Steve paused, glancing around the bar to see if anybody was looking at them strangely. He was used to getting odd looks in public places, but nevertheless he made sure that nobody would be listening in case he mentioned any private matters. “I guess. But, like, something sorta important. Not like the weather or anything.” He said.

“Go ahead.” Bucky said, looking mildly concerned.

“I just want you to know that I can take care of myself. I don’t need you to treat me like some fragile dame, Bucky. I ain’t one.” Steve said.

Bucky paused. “Dames aren’t fragile, Steve. And you sure as hell aren’t one. I just wanna make sure you don’t get yourself killed or forget to eat or suffocate yourself with your binder. I want you to be safe.” He said.

Steve nodded.

“If it makes you feel better,” Bucky continued. “I know something fun we could do tomorrow.”

“What?” Steve asked.

Bucky’s eyes lit up as he said conspiratorially, “We’re goin’ to Coney Island tomorrow.”

“Aw, no way!” Steve said. “We haven’t gone since we were kids!”

“Yeah, I know. Think you can handle the Cyclone this time? You chickened on me when we were thirteen.” Bucky said.

“Of course I can.” Steve said, jaw set in stubbornly.

-

The next morning was beautiful. It was early summer, and the sky was pure blue. It wasn’t too hot or too cold, and the trees that lined the streets were emerald and waving in a gentle breeze. Sunlight glimmered off newly washed automobiles and windows. Steve and Bucky strolled down the sidewalk, sharing popcorn out of a striped paper bag and smiling brighter than the sun itself. Steve self-consciously pulled his t-shirt away from himself. “You sure nothing’s showing through?” He asked Bucky in concern.

The taller of the two shook his head. “You’re fine. C’mon, there’s gonna be a line if we don’t hurry.” He said.

“Hey, I can’t run, remember? Oh, never mind. I’ll race you there!” Steve said, immediately taking off as fast as twiggy legs could carry him.

“That’s not fair, you jerk!” Bucky exclaimed, laughing and trying not to spill popcorn as he jogged to catch up with his fella.

It was little to no effort for Bucky to catch up with Steve and skid to a halt in line just in front of him. Steve near collapsed behind Bucky, panting and wheezing with his hands on his knees. After using his inhaler, though, Steve was bright and perky again, if not shining with sweat. Bucky gazed at him fondly as he collected himself. His golden hair shone bright in the summer sun, and his eyes were bright and excited. Bucky wanted to swim in their blue and gray depths. “I’d call that a tie, wouldn’t you?” Steve laughed, clutching a cramp in his side.

Bucky rolled his eyes fondly. “I won and you know it.”

Steve punched Bucky lightly in the shoulder. “Okay, fine. I’ll handle the tickets,” He said. “I wanna try something.”

“Try what exactly?” Bucky asked. He cocked an eyebrow, looking down his nose in mock judgement.

“Oh, you’ll see.” Steve said.

The corner of his mouth tugged upwards into a smirk, and Bucky felt color flood to his cheeks. “You’re so cute when you’re up to no good.” He said.

“I’m not getting into trouble, I swear. It’s gonna be good, trust me.” Steve said, smile growing.

Eventually it was their turn for tickets. “Two, please.” Steve said, and Bucky nearly jumped upon realizing that Steve had lowered his voice so far down.

“How did you do that?” Bucky asked once they were past the ticket window.

“Practice, I guess. I’ve been imitating people since I was little.” Steve said, shrugging.

“That’s impressive. Who knew you had a unique skill aside from being a beautiful artist and attempting to kick other people’s asses?” Bucky said teasingly.

“Aw, be quiet.” Steve said, holding back a laugh.

The twosome plopped themselves smack at the front of the rollercoaster with an exchanged smirk, hands brushing below where people could see them. The rollercoaster looked rickety certainly, and the sunlight glinted almost ominously off the tracks, but Steve and Bucky weren't about to get off the ride. They were in the moment and invincible as ever. Their hands darted apart as a man came around to strap them, smiling as big as the two of them and telling them to have a great ride almost as if it was an order. "You ready?" Bucky asked, eyes alight with rare and almost childish excitement.

Steve bobbed his head vigorously and opens his mouth, but the words are lost in an unexpectedly high pitched yell as the Cyclone takes off at breakneck speeds. The screaming turned to laughter and whooping soon though as they soared above New York, above bright beach umbrellas, the ocean, and a tightly knit crowd of shiny, tanned people in bathing suits and sunglasses. They were literally and figuratively on top of the world. The ride slowed and Steve felt a shadow fall over him. He looked up, heart dropping. They were inching their way up a massive hill, and there could only be one way this upwards climb was going to end up. The drop. The famous drop. "Son of a bitch." He whispered to himself, and Bucky slapped him on the arm in a joking fashion.

They climbed painstakingly, dread growing in Steve's gut. Or maybe it was the buttery popcorn disagreeing with him. Perhaps both. Steve ignored the feeling. They were at the top now, and the people on the ground below were but tiny ants. The rollercoaster wobbled, and in the instant before it dropped, Bucky pulled Steve in and kissed him hard. He let go right as the rollercoaster dropped. Bucky screamed, half in terror and half in exhilaration. He wasn't sure who was yelling harder, but Steve suddenly cut off oddly. Bucky looked over to him right as he felt something warm and horrible coating his shirt.

"SteeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVE–!"

The cry was louder than any other sound on the boardwalk. It echoed off every single ride, turning most every head in the vicinity in one comically simultaneous movement. The ride skidded to a halt, done as soon as it started. Bucky shook his shirt out, staring at Steve, who was staring right back looking equally as horrified. He wiped his mouth, eyes round. Bucky snorted. They wobbled off the ride platform unsteadily, laughter growing. 

"See?" Steve asked. "I told you I could do it."


End file.
